by S. B. Hayes
Worried looks were exchanged. ‘I’m not sure we should discuss this without Rebecca’s knowledge,’ Gran said. ‘It’s her you need to ask.’
‘But … she doesn’t want to talk about it,’ I cried in frustration. ‘I know she doesn’t. She never even told me I was born in another city, and if I hassle her … she’ll get ill …’
Grandad got up from his chair and muttered something about ‘checking on his plants’, even though it was raining.
‘I’ll tell you what I know,’ Gran said at last, ‘but it isn’t very much.’ She refilled her cup full of strong orange tea and settled back in her chair. ‘Rebecca was only twenty-one when you were born. She was studying music in York and we didn’t know she was pregnant. The first we heard was a phone call to announce your birth.’
‘Mum didn’t tell you?’ I asked in surprise. ‘Did she think you’d be angry?’
There was a small sigh. ‘We were a little … conventional, but we would have supported our daughter – any mother and father surely would. Rebecca was very independent and headstrong and I think she wanted to cope on her own.’
I thought of Mum lying in bed day after day, the exact opposite of independent and headstrong, and I wondered again what had made her this way.
‘What happened when you got to the hospital?’
‘Well, that’s the thing, Katy. Rebecca had already discharged herself, so we went to her flat instead.’
My heart sank into my boots. ‘You didn’t see me in the hospital?’
Gran’s face creased as she tried to remember. ‘No … we didn’t see you until you were five days old.’
‘And what was Mum like? I mean, was she OK being on her own with a tiny baby?’
‘She was like a duck to water, looking after you,’ was the delighted reply.
‘And … was anyone else there? Did you see any of Mum’s friends?’
‘No. By the time we arrived she was upset and kept saying she just wanted to leave, to come home. She’d finished her final exams and had her bags packed. We helped her of course.’
‘Nothing seemed strange?’
Gran rocked backwards and forwards in her chair laughing. ‘Only the fact that my only daughter now had her own daughter and I wasn’t at all prepared.’
‘How did she keep it from you?’
Gran made a sucking noise with her teeth. ‘That Easter she hadn’t come home – she said she had to revise. And in the early stages she hid it well with plenty of baggy clothes, and we just put the weight gain down to all the unhealthy student food. And remember how tiny you were at birth.’
Then why does a photo of a bouncing chubby baby have my name on it?, I wanted to yell, but somehow this was one step too far and it didn’t feel fair to burden Gran with my worries. I knew instinctively that she wouldn’t have the answer to this. My grandparents were never even at the hospital and the only baby they ever saw was the one my mum presented them with.
‘What are you looking for, Katy?’ Gran asked kindly.
‘Don’t know,’ I answered honestly. ‘Just a reason why Mum wouldn’t tell me about my birth. I thought there had to be some kind of secret.’
Gran picked up the teapot to pour herself another cup and somehow managed to scald her hand. She held it under the cold tap while I hovered in concern.
‘It’s all right, I’m not hurt,’ she tried to reassure me, but she seemed pale and anxious. I felt enormously guilty for coming here like this and worrying her. Tears sprang from nowhere and I hastily blinked them away. It wasn’t just the strain of Genevieve, but seeing my grandparents again and realizing how much I missed them. Gran must have noticed and motioned me to sit down again. She rested one of her wrinkled hands over mine.
‘There was something else,’ she began. She looked at me for a minute as if she was having second thoughts but continued hesitantly. ‘The flat Rebecca was living in was … rundown and not in a nice area. Some of the tenants had problems … drugs, I think.’
‘Mum wasn’t …?’
‘Good grief, no. But … there was an incident.’
‘What sort of incident?’
Gran cleared her throat, fiddled with her rings and folded her arms in the same way Mum always did when she was nervous. ‘One of the women living there … she took an overdose … and … unfortunately … she didn’t survive.’
‘Did Mum know her?’
Gran nodded. ‘Rebecca was terribly shaken. It took her ages to get over it, and we were worried about her for a while.’
This could be the key to why Mum had always been so fragile. I was almost too scared to ask. ‘Why? What did she do?’
Gran looked out of the window and her face was etched with sorrow. ‘She was almost locked in her own world … so unlike the bright cheerful girl who went away. We knew she was hurting but were powerless to help.’
‘But … Mum left you and found her own place. She must have been feeling stronger?’
Gran nodded. ‘After a time the garden seemed to heal her. She spent so long outside tending the flowers, and her favourite place was under the weeping willow. She even named it after you, Katy.’
An enormous feeling of sadness welled up inside me. ‘And … Mum never went back to the flat?’
‘Never. She didn’t want to talk about her time there and we never brought it up.’
‘What about enemies? Did she have any?’
Gran laughed. ‘Rebecca never had an enemy in the world – she brought sunshine to everyone.’
I smiled wanly. ‘Can I see one of your first photographs of me?’
Gran was more than happy to get out the family album. I noted that all her photos were exactly the same as I’d always seen at Mum’s, and none of them looked like the one from the attic. I had to sit for a whole hour looking at everyone in my extended family until my eyes glazed over. I made an excuse not to stay for tea by hinting that Mum needed me home. As I kissed Gran goodbye there was one question I had yet to ask.
‘When she was younger … did Mum ever complain of strange dreams or any kind of … er … premonitions?’
Gran shook her head sadly and gave me one last hug. ‘Take care, Katy.’
It was rush hour when I got back on the train and standing room only; hordes of commuters flooded the carriages and not even a limp could get me a seat. I managed to find a corner close to the luggage rack, my mind swimming with unanswered questions. What had happened in that dingy flat? And why was Mum so unwilling to talk about it? Something so awful that she was prepared to leave her home rather than face up to it. And something involving Genevieve.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
It was only a week before the whispering began – a constant low hum, like white noise, that surrounded me wherever I went. It was waiting around corners, in corridors and in conversations that ended as soon as I appeared. Despite being practised at leading a double life and smiling through everything, it really started to wear me down. I overheard two girls talking in the ladies’ when I was locked in a cubicle, saying that I only had myself to blame. Blame for what? What had Genevieve done now? Every nerve fibre in my body was stretched as I waited for her latest trick to be revealed.
Gradually even Hannah and Nat seemed affected, which was the last straw. I was about to confront them when they decided to take me out to lunch. It was all paid for by them, with the choice of every sugar-coated dessert under the sun, obviously to cushion the blow from something. I almost felt sorry for them – the furtive glances, tight smiles, the over-nice manners – whatever Genevieve had done now must be bad.
‘You might as well just tell me what it is,’ I said at last. ‘You two are making me nervous.’
The table wobbled and I knew they were nudging each other underneath, neither wanting to be the one to speak first. I got to my feet. ‘I’m leaving right now unless someone tells me what’s going on.’
Hannah nodded to Nat, who screwed up her eyes, braced herself and let the words just pour out.
‘Merlin and Genevieve are going out together, as in boyfriend and girlfriend. We didn’t want you to hear it on the grapevine. It only happened after you finished with him, and he’s really worried you’ll think something else.’
I didn’t actually know what I felt, except maybe as if I’d been hit by a bus. All the times I’d thought this was about to happen, that Genevieve would make it happen, that I’d pushed Merlin into her arms … yet now I was faced with the reality I was completely stunned. But that wasn’t the only thing – everyone must have talking about me, pitying me, which was almost as bad.
‘Merlin knows you’re breaking the news to me now?’ I hissed.
They both nodded feebly.
‘What? As if I need to be wrapped in cotton wool and let down gently! How dare he be so arrogant and even think that I’d care!’
‘You mean … you don’t care?’ Hannah faltered.
‘Why should I? I finished with him.’
‘We know that,’ Nat put in, ‘but … we thought it was just … a tiff.’
I went back to eating my chocolate fudge cake with dollops of ice cream and whipped cream, but it suddenly tasted awful. I hadn’t been able to face telling anyone about the painting, and pride made me point out, ‘Merlin begged me to carry on seeing him.’
‘That’s a relief,’ Hannah sighed.
Nat winced apologetically. ‘Thing is … you never told us what really happened. You were in love, going away for the night, then you were grounded and missed my party and then you broke up.’
‘Was it the party?’ Hannah asked. ‘Merlin dancing with Genevieve?’
I actually felt sorry for them both because they seemed so innocent. Someone as darkly complicated as Genevieve was making my life hell, and they knew nothing about it. To them life was still full of trivial teenage stuff, but I could never go back to that. Genevieve had changed me.
‘I was annoyed about the photograph,’ I admitted, ‘but it wasn’t just that. Something was different, and it felt wrong somehow. I had to be true to myself.’
‘Katy, you are so brave,’ Hannah gushed. ‘Standing up for yourself like that and refusing to compromise.’
Nat peered at us both in bewilderment. ‘Have you seen most of the males around here? If we refuse to compromise, we’ll die alone.’
I managed a lukewarm smile, noticing Hannah’s foot tapping manically on the floor, which meant there was more to come.
‘Genevieve is mortified because of the timing, Katy … She hopes you won’t hate her.’
I didn’t even look up from my dessert. ‘Hate her?’
‘She’s worried it seems a bit … hasty.’
‘As far as I’m concerned, Merlin was free to hook up with whoever he wanted.’
Nat’s voice was annoyingly concerned. ‘It’s important to Merlin that you don’t think he acted … dishonourably.’
I laid my head on the table and broke into cynical laughter at her choice of word. ‘You can tell Sir Lancelot his honour is still intact … and his Guinevere, of course.’
We walked slowly back to college. As we reached the steps, we saw them. Unfolding, frame by frame like a slowed-down movie, were the figures of Merlin and Genevieve, climbing the steps together, holding hands. It was a bright winter’s day and it seemed as if Genevieve had shafts of light in her hair radiating outwards. Her smile was blinding as she gazed at Merlin. Their bodies moulded and curved together, and when he moved she filled the space left behind; even their clothes synchronized in a stylish way. Students actually stopped what they were doing to stare at them both – happy shiny people with the world at their feet.
‘They make a lovely couple,’ I managed to say, trying to defuse the moment. Two arms linked through mine and I gritted my teeth. ‘Come on. Let’s get it over with.’
We quickened our pace to catch up with them. Merlin noticed me and almost stumbled as a look passed between us that I didn’t understand. His grip on Genevieve’s hand loosened, but she held on even tighter.
There was nothing else to do but clear the air. ‘I’ve just found out the good news.’
‘Thanks, Katy,’ Merlin muttered, but he looked away. This made me feel better because he didn’t want to rub my face in it.
‘Thanks, Katy,’ Genevieve echoed, and for the first time I couldn’t read what was in her eyes – rage, triumph or her usual menace. I remembered the pendant and wondered if our connection was broken.
After college I managed to sneak out without Nat or Hannah seeing me and took my favourite route home. In the last few weeks the hedgerows and trees had changed into arrangements of sticks and branches that had a stark kind of beauty. I studied a row of terraces, realizing that in another week they’d be sparkling with Christmas lights, and tried not to imagine Merlin’s house filled with all the handmade decorations his mum had been working on. The ones I wouldn’t get to see. Genevieve would have my Christmas now along with all the romantic things that Merlin and I would have done together.
A mocking voice called after me, and this time I wasn’t surprised; in a way I’d almost expected it. ‘Poor Katy. She comes this way to be alone when she’s feeling sad.’
I didn’t turn round, but my heart plummeted at the prospect of another encounter. ‘Why would I be sad, Genevieve?’
‘Because Merlin doesn’t love you any more.’
‘Congratulations,’ I told her. ‘You wanted him and now you have him.’
‘Still think he’s your cast-off?’ she asked gleefully. ‘That he ever belonged to you?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then I’m about to burst your bubble.’
She moved in front of me now, walking or rather skipping backwards, which forced me to slow down. I had visions of her tripping, but her feet seemed to anticipate every bump and crater. She artfully pointed her fingers and made a series of undulating wave movements with her hands as if this was a mime and she was acting out the story.
‘He was with me from the very start. Don’t ever fool yourself he was yours.’
‘Merlin didn’t deceive me; I would have known.’
‘Oh, Katy. He didn’t know, he deceived himself … but his canvas told the truth.’
‘The painting,’ I said flatly, wondering how I could possibly have imagined that she wouldn’t have known.
‘Glorious, isn’t it?’ She laughed unexpectedly and a startled flock of birds flew up out of a tree.
‘The painting was of me,’ I had to say.
‘You’re not a proper artist, Katy, so you don’t understand. It’s impossible to change an oil painting halfway through. It was always my face on that canvas.’
‘I saw it,’ I insisted, still knowing this was playing into her hands.
‘You saw nothing but a few daubs on a canvas … an idea that wasn’t even formed. You wanted to see yourself there, and so that’s what you imagined. When Merlin filled in the detail, it was me.’
‘Believe what you like, Genevieve.’
She stopped dead and I was forced to stop also. ‘It was finished weeks ago,’ she whispered, and a smile slowly spread across her whole face like oil on water. She sensed my uncertainty and her smile grew even wider. ‘Even when Merlin was with you he wanted me.’
She opened her fist, arranged her lips and blew as if there was a puffball in her hand that now floated into the air. ‘Now everything is almost complete, everyone is where they ought to be.’
She walked away without a backward glance.
Luke was tinkering with his car when I walked down my street, his head under the bonnet. It had refused to start this morning for the second time in a week.
‘Look as if you’ve lost sixpence and found a penny.’ He grinned.
‘That’s the sort of lame thing Mum would say,’ I growled. ‘If you mean I look pissed off, just say so.’
He wiped his hands on an old piece of rag. ‘Do I have to ask?’
I hesitated. I still hadn’t filled Luke in on what had happened when h
e was away. I was worried about how he’d react but couldn’t hold back any longer.
‘Genevieve practically confessed to murder, Luke. It was like she wanted me to know … like she was proud of it.’
He shook his head. ‘It could be a warning.’
I wiggled my eyebrows up and down, trying to lift the mood, determined not to tell him the full truth. ‘She did joke about pushing me down the college steps.’
‘That isn’t funny, Kat.’
‘Whatever she does, she wants me to know about it.’
‘That’s the part I don’t like,’ he replied worriedly. ‘She’s getting too close to you.’ Luke was definitely unsettled and I had the feeling he wasn’t as comfortable about all this as previously. ‘She seems to be moving towards something,’ he brooded. ‘Some sort of ultimatum.’
‘That might be a relief,’ I replied. ‘To find out what she really wants … better than the uncertainty.’
He half-nodded, as if he understood but wasn’t happy about it.
I shook my head and heaved a sigh. ‘That’s not all. Merlin and Genevieve … they’re an item. He was so devastated about breaking up with me he waited … oh, at least a week before getting together with her.’
‘I’m sorry, Kat.’
‘Mum was right,’ I complained. ‘My jealousy made it all happen, like a … self-fulfilling prophecy.’
‘I think you had some help from Genevieve, don’t you? She went out of her way to make you doubt Merlin.’
I tapped my chest. ‘No, it was inside me, the green-eyed monster just festering away, destroying what we had. I can’t completely blame her.’
Luke seemed doubtful. ‘She manipulated you … played on your weaknesses.’
‘But I had to act on it. Mum’s right – if you love someone, you have to set them free.’
‘Wise words,’ Luke agreed lightly.
‘That’s the good thing about us,’ I said as an afterthought. ‘We don’t have all those complications. We can say what we like and we’ll always be friends. Friends are better than romance.’
‘If you say so,’ he murmured, but sounded oddly tetchy.
